


New Normal

by Wicked42



Series: Gwenvid Week 2018 [3]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: David is ecstatic, F/M, Gwen is worried, Pregnancy, family fic, max is max, surprisingly not a lot of angst. Ish.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 07:29:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15836607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wicked42/pseuds/Wicked42
Summary: In which Gwen discovers she's pregnant, and promptly tries to hide it from David and Max. And of course that doesn't go well.Day 3 of Gwenvid Week!Prompt: Parents





	New Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Gwenvid week continues!! Today's prompt: PARENTS. :D

Gwen stared at the stick trembling between her fingers. At the little line across the front. At the device that had just demolished her entire world-view. Her entire future.

A sick feeling settled in her gut, and it had nothing to do with the tiny… parasite… growing there. Kids were fine. Really. But—they also took almost every waking minute of the day, and some of the sleeping ones too, and having her own kid meant that this time, it wasn’t just for a summer, and this time, no one was paying her to deal with its problems.

And this time, David would be involved.

Well, David was involved at Camp Campbell, too. But this was different. This wasn’t co-counselors tag-teaming throughout the day, CBFLs waving goodbye to a bunch of kids as they piled onto the bus in August, then waving to each other as they returned to their respective lives for another nine months.

This was permanent.

And definitely _not_ something she and David talked about. Especially not with Max living in David’s spare bedroom.

“Oh god,” she whispered. And with guilt roiling in her stomach, she dropped the stick in the trash.

 

* * *

 

It took three weeks. Three weeks of extracting herself from David’s arms in the dark, early morning hours, of rushing into the adjoining bathroom, of trying her best to stifle the sounds as the parasite destroyed her insides and generally made her miserable.

Of forcing smiles when David, oblivious as ever, cheerfully “woke” her for their morning Coffee Talk. Of staggering out of bed, bags under her eyes and exhaustion in her bones. Of quietly refusing coffee in favor of his beloved blend of chamomile tea.

Of guilt weighing her shoulders until she felt like she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think.

And after all that time, Max was the one who noticed.

Because of fucking _course_ he did.

She was sitting with the #2 Counselor mug pressed against her lips, vacant-eyed, trying to subtly draw deep breaths to quell the nausea while simultaneously nodding at David’s bright morning commentary, when she felt Max’s gaze on her.

She shifted a glare to him, but the back of her neck prickled with heat and saliva poured into her mouth and suddenly fooling Max was more effort than trying not to vomit right there at the kitchen table.

“David, didn’t you need to take out the trash?” Max said, out of the blue.

The redhead blinked. “Well, sure! But I was going to do it when we walked you to the bus stop.” His eyes roamed over Max’s backpack, hanging on a hook by the front door.

Max waved a hand. “Huh. Well, I hear the garbage truck coming. Kind of rude to wait until after they leave, isn’t it? It’s gonna stink up the whole fucking street.”

It was a weak excuse, but it worked. David, ever the polite neighbor, chewed his lower lip before saying, “Oh, gosh, you’re right. One second.” And swiftly, he left the table and his tea behind to tie the black bag and hurry out the door.

The second he was gone, Max slammed his hands onto the table. “Okay, Gwen, spill. Why the fuck are you acting so weird?”

Gwen staggered to the fridge, plucking an ice pack from the freezer. It felt better against the back of her neck, the sharp jolt of cold pulling her mind from her stomach, from how it was preparing to revolt. With David gone, she gulped air, closing her eyes as she braced herself against the countertop.

“A-Are you okay?” Max asked, begrudgingly.

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

She didn’t see the way his eyes flicked to the sweat on her forehead, the greenish tint of her skin, then to the chamomile tea she’d been nursing before this all started. She didn’t see him put the pieces together.

She definitely heard him, though.

“Jesus _Christ_ , you’re pregnant!”

“Keep it the fuck down, will you,” she moaned, glaring at him.

Max wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. But that means you and David have—” he paled, which flooded her with a sick sense of satisfaction. At least now they were _both_ nauseated.

“For someone who uses the “f” word all the time, awfully ironic that you’re shying away from it now,” Gwen said, wickedly. It felt good to banter with the kid. Like nothing was wrong. Like the parasite wasn’t growing inside her, waiting to change everything she knew and loved.

Max flipped her off, then glanced at the front door. “David doesn’t know.” It wasn’t a question.

And they were right back to facing facts. Gwen followed his gaze, then dropped her eyes to the floor. “No.”

“Jesus, Gwen. You know he lives for this shit.”

“He lives for _you_ and the campers. Not—not a newborn. Not a baby.” Gwen started trembling, emotion swelling into big, fat tears. “What if he doesn’t want it? We don’t have room for a kid. We don’t have the finances budgeted. We’ve got _you_ —”

“Don’t bring me into this,” Max muttered.

Gwen plowed ahead. “—and Max, I _like_ our lives right now. You and me and David. He and I aren’t even married, for Christ’s sake. A baby is going to screw everything—”

“A baby?” a faint voice said from the front door.

“Busted.” Max rolled his eyes.

Gwen froze, dropping the plastic ice pack. It clattered to the ground, bouncing under the kitchen table, instantly forgotten. Nausea swelled again, and this time, Gwen couldn’t clamp it down, couldn’t breathe through it.

Because this time, David _knew_. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to make him unhear it.

With a strangled gasp, she sprinted into the bathroom, hunching over the toilet. This was where she deserved to be, forehead pressed against the cool ceramic, hair plastered to her neck. This bathroom was her new best friend.

And even if David left her, it would still be here.

As long as he didn’t kick her out of his apartment. Oh, god. She’d have to move back to Indiana. Maybe even back in with her Mom. The idea made her shudder, bringing everything up in a violent gush.

She heaved once, twice, three times, then spit, fumbling to flush the toilet. But her fingers brushed against David’s calloused hand, and he did it for her. His other hand rubbed her back, and a second later he scooped the hair off her neck and gently twisted it out of the way.

“Gwen? Can I get you anything?”

She felt better now, but she didn’t dare remove her forehead from the seat, didn’t dare meet his gaze. He didn’t sound angry—not that she expected him to be; David rarely got angry, and never with her—but she still couldn’t face the possibility of him not _wanting_ this.

Who the fuck would?

Instead, she croaked, “Y-You’re dreaming?”

His fingers stilled on her back, and then he laughed, surprising her with a light, “Oh, gosh, I sure hope not.”

She pulled herself off the toilet, then. Sat back on her ass and met his gaze and saw the pure unbiased _joy_ in his bright green eyes. And then he swept her into a hug, gripping her gross, sweaty, smelly body like he’d never embraced anyone as important or loved before.

Tears overflowed.

She tried to stammer an apology, an explanation: “D-David, I don’t know how it happened. I—I must have—skipped a day of birth control or—or something—”

“It doesn’t matter how it happened,” David whispered, stroking her hair. “We’re going to have a baby.” He laughed and squeezed her tighter. “This is amazing. You’re amazing.”

“Told you,” Max drawled from the doorway.

The weight lifted off her shoulders, and she swallowed past the acidic taste in her mouth. Maybe they would be okay. She wasn’t alone in this anymore. David never asked for a baby, but it didn’t seem to be deterring him in the slightest.

She should have known, really. Nothing about David’s personality implied he’d shy away from responsibility, especially when a child was involved. Max was evidence of that. But—god, hormones were the worst. For every moment she thought he might be happy, there were just as many dark moments where her brain whispered he’d hate her instead.

But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He was fucking _David._ And that made her cry even harder. Gratitude surged, and when he intertwined their fingers, she squeezed back.

Together, it kind of felt like they could do anything.

Even raise a weird little parasite.

Max leaned against the bathroom’s doorframe and crossed his arms. “So… this sounds like a ‘skipping school to watch movies’ kind of day.”

“Nice try, bud,” David helped Gwen off the floor, shaking his head despite the stupid smile on his face. “You’re going to school.”

“Really? Because it seems like now’s the time to remind your adopted kid that you love him as much as your biological one.” An evil glint flashed in his eyes before Max rearranged his expression into one of anguish and betrayal. “Don’t you love me?”

Gwen snorted.

David floundered, spinning towards Max. He looked devastated at the very idea. “You know I do! This doesn’t change how we feel about you, Max.”

“I’m just saying. A family bonding day would _really_ reassure me…” His grin grew malicious, especially when he tacked on, “… _Dad._ ”

David’s eyes widened to saucers, sparkling like a goddamn star. Gwen had to press a fist to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Somehow, Max held it together, the epitome of a newly neglected child.

To be fair, he had plenty of practice with _that_ look.

But David was still dazzled by Max’s new name for him. He tapped his chin, thoughtfully. “Well, maybe it is a lazy day. What do you think, Mom?”

Gwen narrowed her eyes. “I think if you call me that one more time, I’ll break your hand.”

“Oh, good. She’s back,” Max said.  

And they laughed as life shifted into a _new_ kind of normal.

**Author's Note:**

> Max is such a lovable little shit. XD
> 
> This was a little longer than the others, just due to the nature of the fic. I swear, one day (probably like, next summer), I'm going to write a proper multi-chapter fic of Gwen's pregnancy. Because I highly doubt Max would be this cool about it. I just didn't have the energy to make him as secretly devastated as I imagine he'd feel... :P 
> 
> Aaaanyway. Loving this week, loving these challenges!! :D


End file.
